


Do Not Despair, for You are Perfection

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Worried Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 04:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10936968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: Please, God, don't let him be seriously injured. Please.





	Do Not Despair, for You are Perfection

Yuuri truly was a sight to behold. Victor had known this, of course; likely, the whole world knew it at this point. But it was different; he was his coach, and therefore more invested in his ability. And, of course, he was also slightly _more_ than his coach.

Victor leaned his arms against the low wall and beamed as the audience cheered at the quad flip. He had them eating out of his hand, and as they should. He still couldn’t help the thrill of something like terror that came with each copy of the move that _he_ had done, knowing its difficulty and dangers. Maybe Yuuri touched the ice coming out of it, but it was worth the deduction and the audience knew it.

He wanted nothing more than to stand up straight and cheer with the rest of them, and he would. After the performance.

It turned out he wouldn’t get the chance.

He had heard some expression that terrible things happened in slow motion. You could see it happening and still have no time to get there to stop it. That wasn’t true. It happened so _fast_. Because one minute he was nearly about to jump out of his skin in triumph for Yuuri’s progress, and then next, a triple, something wrong, a collective gasp as Yuuri crashed to the ice and. _nothing_. when Yuuri didn’t get back up.

White noise. Everything moved too fast, and there was white noise.

Victor waited a beat of his heart, and then another, and everything came rushing back in a swell of sensation. Yuuri curled onto his side on the ice, the audience chattering uneasily, the announcers speaking.

“– looks to be injured–”

“He’s never stayed down after a fall. We can only hope that he’s alright–”

Victor inhaled sharply, sprinting for the entrance to the ice. They were right. Yuuri never stayed down after a fall. Even hard falls. He would skate gushing blood. He forgot that he wasn’t wearing any skates, slipping on the ice himself. He caught himself with two hands, shoved himself back up. Yuuri didn’t stop. That was one of the things that impressed Victor. No matter what, he kept going. Victor kept going, half crashing onto his knees next to Yuuri. He would have bruises from that. Yuuri would probably have bruises, too.

“Yuuri! Talk to me.”

It wasn’t necessary, really; there was clearly something wrong. And that was evident even before Victor saw the tears tracking Yuuri’s cheeks, hands balled into fists against his chest.

“Yuuri.” His hands fluttered to stroke his hair, rest against a shoulder. He didn’t know what was hurt, so he needed that explanation. “What’s wrong? What hurts?”

Yuuri was breathing so hard Victor hardly expected to be able to understand him. But “ankle”, he wheezed, squeezing his eyes closed. “… slipped… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”  The tears were renewed, he was almost sobbing in earnest, and Victor’s eyes were starting to burn, too. He had never liked seeing him cry and _never_ for an injury.

Get him off the ice. The first course of action, get him off the ice, out of the spotlight, and get medical attention. Victor sucked in a sharp breath, letting his hand settle at rubbing circles onto his back, and gestured the medics over. “Can you walk? Yuuri?”

“Not on that… that ankle, it _hurts_ , I’m sorry–”

“I’ve got you,” Victor interrupted, shifting to make room. “Quiet now, you’ll be fine. I’ve got you.”

“– is it a possibility that this could be the end of his season?”

“We’ll just have to hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“It could be a possibility but, if so, a major disappointment. He has so much more to offer!”

“We can only hope that he’ll be okay.”

Victor gritted his teeth, slipping his hands up over Yuuri’s ears. No. He would be fine. Whatever the injury, Yuuri would not let it keep him down for long. He didn’t need to hear this. Not that he was probably listening right now, anyway.

The medics were fearing the worst, too, it seemed. Victor wanted to take them all by the arms and drag them away. Yuuri would be _fine_. He was too impressionable to be saying he might not be, right in front of him! But they knew the best about taking care of Yuuri. So he said nothing, just stroked the hair at the edge of Yuuri’s ear, and again plied him with the question of being able to walk when it came time to move him.

He said that he could, and he did, spared the indignity of a stretcher so long as Victor was supporting the ankle he couldn’t skate on. There were still tears rolling down his cheeks. Victor quickly thumbed them away. Yuuri didn’t seem to notice. He was mostly endless apologies, for reasons Victor couldn’t fathom.

“He’s back on his feet! While clearly in pain, Yuuri Katsuki is managing to walk off the ice with the help of his coach and a medic! What a trooper!”

“Everyone give him a hand! He’ll need our support now more than ever!”

That was better, Victor thought sourly. After they had already doubted his season due to a fall. Better people had taken worse falls. He’d been there himself before. Either way, Yuuri still didn’t seem to notice, shoulders hunched over, eyes cast down. Victor wanted to take his face in his hands and make him focus and tell him that he would be okay, but he couldn’t right now, and he didn’t.

He did sweep him off his feet, into his arms to carry him once they were off the ice. Perhaps it was a mark of Yuuri’s state of mind that he didn’t react. He just turned his face into Victor’s jacket and said nothing.

 

He fell asleep like that, only rousing when the medics iced up the ankle and Victor had to carry him onto the ambulance. It was probably more fuss than it was worth, and Yuuri did make that comment, briefly, softly, with an apology, while he was awake. But it was better safe than sorry. The injury had already started to swell, already turning a nasty shade of dark blue. Victor was praying it wasn’t broken; the fact that Yuuri hadn’t reacted horribly to the prodding meant that there was maybe a chance.

Either that, or he’d lost all feeling in it to begin with.

Either _that_ , or he was lying about how much the prodding had hurt.

It turned out to be a sprain. Not a bad one, and Victor breathed a sigh of relief. Thank _God_. With the swelling, he hadn’t been sure if it would be a sprain, or a break, and he knew which one he _hadn’t_ wanted. _Neither_ would have been better, but… a sprain. That was manageable. It could be. It _would_ be.

Yuuri had dozed off again following the diagnosis, but as soon as he woke up, they would be free to go. He didn’t have the heart to wake him yet. Besides, he would have to call for a car, anyway.

He was just coming back from the cafeteria where there were footsteps, loud and fast and pounding in the silence of the deserted hallway.

“Where’s he at?!”

Victor glanced over his shoulder, fingers tightening reflexively around his cup of coffee, and his eyes widened at the blonde that had skidded to a stop behind him. “Yurio?”

“Where’s pork cutlet bowl!”

He opened his mouth to respond, and then closed it again. “What are you doing here?” he managed.

“It’s all over the internet! Where is he?!” Yurio demanded.

Victor just looked at him, hoodie rumpled and hair bedraggled as though he’d run all the way here from wherever he’d been. He was out of breath enough to have done. “He’s sleeping,” he said, switching his coffee to the other hand. And then he couldn’t hold back the exhausted sigh, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “It’s a sprain.”

“How bad?”

“Why?” He couldn’t resist poking at him. The laughter was building from the inside out. It felt nice to want to laugh, even if he was so tired. “Were you worried?” he asked, sidling closer to him.

“ _Hell_ no!”

“I think you were worried~” Victor chirped, pressing his index finger into Yurio’s cheek. “Weren’t you~?”

Yurio jerked back, hands flying to his face. “Get off of me!” He scrubbed at his cheek and Victor was definitely laughing now, only catching himself enough to be able to gulp at his coffee. It burned all the way down, and it tasted horrible. That was also vaguely comforting.

“If he’s going to lose to me, it’s going to be fair and square!” Yurio continued, glaring at him. “He doesn’t get to get injured and then not be able to skate again! That doesn’t accomplish anything! That makes his practice for nothing and it makes our victories over him for nothing, too!”

“And you’re telling me why?”

Yurio huffed, tugging at his hood. “… You just said he’s asleep,” he muttered.

Victor chuckled, patting the top of his head.

“Don’t patronize me!”

 

“Yuuri! You’re awake! That’s good timing,” Victor said, leaning forward. His elbows went on the bed. “Because I think they were about to ask me to take you and leave.”

“Vitya…?” Yuuri rubbed at his eyes. “Um…”

“Here they are!” He held out his glasses.

“Thanks…” Yuuri pushed them on, gingerly sitting up. His eyes immediately fell on his ankle, propped up on the pillows at the end of the bed. His lips twisted into a frown, and Victor could practically watch as his eyes went far away in memory.

“Really naughty, Yuuri!” he interrupted, leaning forward. Now his hands were braced on the bed. “Scaring us all! I should make you ignore pork cutlet bowls for three months!”

The joke fell flat, though, it seemed. All Yuuri did was shrink a little, and that wasn’t Victor’s intention at all, and Yuuri continued with another mumbled apology, not looking at him. “I’m sorry…”

Victor pursed his lips. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because I messed up.”

“So?”

Yuuri was disbelieving now. _“So?”_

“That has always been a fault of yours, Yuuri. You are too hard on yourse–”

“No!” Yuuri interrupted, and Victor fell silent. “No, I’m not too hard on myself! _You_ should be hard on me! You should be _yelling_ at me, not… not _joking_. It’s not a _joke_ –”

“I know it’s not a joke.”

“– after all this time, after taking you away from the one thing you love the most and what everyone wants to see you do, I still do something like this! I– I– I should have better control, I _know_ I can do better! Now I’ve disappointed you and that’s not–”

Victor moved forward, taking Yuuri’s face in his hands. “Nothing you do could disappoint me, Yuuri.”

His eyes softened, just a little bit. “It should…”

“It really shouldn’t.”

Now his eyes softened even more; they filled with tears instead, and spilled over. “Ah, hell… I’m so–”

“I’m proud of you.”

“Oh no,” Yuuri breathed, and Victor hummed instead of laughing as he leaned his forehead against his.

“Oh, yes.”

“Oh _give me a break!!!_ ”

Oh right! He’d forgotten about Yurio, hadn’t he?

Victor sat back, holding out his hand towards the blonde. “Yuuri, we have a guest~ Yurio was so worried about that he–”

“ _Do you really want to finish that sentence!?_ ”

“Yurio?” Yuuri asked, scrubbing at his eyes. His cheeks were pink. It was adorable. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and looked at him. “What are you doing here…?”

“I came to tell you that you can’t lose through disqualification!” Yurio retorted. “You don’t get to stop that easily! I better see you back on the ice before we compete again and that way I can beat you fair and square, so that means no more ruining your jumps! But now I’m so _disgusted_ , I can’t even be in the same room as you two! _Ugh!_ ”

Victor chuckled as Yurio stomped out of the room, and Yuuri watched him go.

“… in some ways he’s changed so much,” Yuuri murmured.

“–  and in some ways, he hasn’t changed at all!” Victor added, and that got a laugh from _both_ of them. Even if Yuuri’s was a little lacklustre. “We should go now, Yuuri. A hot bath sounds good, and then I can help you heal.”

“Help me heal?” Yuuri mumbled. “What are you going to do, prop my foot up on pillows?”

“Yes,” Victor said defiantly. “I will lovingly wrap and apply ice to it, prop it up on the finest pillows, and kiss each of your toes with my supple lips.”

A better laugh. “My toes aren’t the problem.”

“Are you saying you don’t want me to kiss your foot? Here I am, trying to make you heal faster!” Victor leaned over, catching Yuuri’s hand in his own. The look on Yuuri’s face was definitely getting a bit better, and that meant he could smile easier, too. He pressed a kiss against the back of his knuckles and lingered, even when Yuuri weakly protested.

He was being honest. Nothing Yuuri could do could disappoint him. Not anymore. He had been concerned about his _safety_ , not his skating. … Okay, the latter, too, but safety was completely more important. It would take a couple weeks at least, but Yuuri would be back out there and better than usual and Victor was certain he was right: he had every reason to be proud of him, and none to be disappointed.

It also might take some time, but he was helping Yuuri to realize that himself too.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure this has been done to death but hey I'm here I'm in this fandom now /dabs
> 
> I love them all so much.
> 
> I do not own _YOI_. Thanks for reading!


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